


I am a Mirrorball

by Anonymous



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fire Nation Politics (Avatar), Fire Nation Royal Family, Gen, Hint of - Freeform, Ursa (Avatar)-Centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Great Sage, meet Ursa, your newest recruit,” the Firelord gave an upward tick of his mouth.Recruit? Yori had thought the Firelord went to the colonies to procure a bride for the second prince, not another sage. The confusion must have shown on his face.__The Avatar’s seer granddaughter is not fit to be a Prince’s bride but she can still serve her nation.
Relationships: Azula & Ursa (Avatar), Azulon & Ursa (Avatar), Lu Ten & Ursa, Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55
Collections: Anonymous





	I am a Mirrorball

Great Sage Yori hid his surprise from the Firelord behind a well maintained facade of calm. 

Avatar Roku’s only grandchild stood in front of him in wrinkled smudged clothes and bowed. Her skin shone in the candle light with the slight sheen of sweat, yet Yori was not ignorant to the way the hair of her arms stood on edge, shivering in the oppressive heat of the Temple.

“Great Sage, meet Ursa, your newest recruit,” the Firelord gave an upward tick of his mouth. 

Recruit? Yori had thought the Firelord went to the colonies to procure a bride for the second prince, not another sage. The confusion must have shown on his face.

“It seems the spirits have sought to reward the girl and her family for not following in the footsteps of her traitorous ancestor, and blessed her with the gift of divination. Isn’t that right, my dear?” 

“I am here to serve you and my country, my L ord.” Her voice stood firm as the sweat made a trail down her cheek.

“And the wedding, your majesty?” he made sure to keep his voice properly lowered. The girl’s head craned to the side ever so slightly.

Firelord Azulon gave a nonchalant wave of his hand. “We’ll look for another wife for my son. This one is yours to train.”

Yori looked at the Avatar’s granddaughter. She stared back.

* * *

Ursa had never been one to slack off work and she wasn’t about to start now. She wouldn’t have been able, even if she wished to do so anyways; the sages were rigorous in their training and they wasted no time in teaching her all the ways she could connect to the Spirit World, to call on her ability.

She lit the wick aflame, sitting on her knees as she took careful breaths and closed her eyes. She thought of home, of Hira’a and wondered belatedly if she could have run far away had she foreseen this life fate had in store for her.

But, it was too late for that now, she supposed. 

The flames danced in the breeze and the first threads of the future got tangled around her fingertips. A stray tear fell before she could wipe it away. Yes, it was far too late for that.

* * *

Ursa, 

I am so pleased to hear that your new life is treating you well, I certainly hope you’re working as hard and diligent as I know you to do. Don’t forget to send me and your father news of your happenings every now and then. We worry for you everyday.

Please, my heart, please take care.

* * *

Meeting Crown Prince Iroh was a strange sort of event. Of most importance and yet, utterly remarkable. Ursa had been summoned by his majesty to attend one of his dinners and she'd donned her red robes and headdress with minimal fuss. 

Well, it was minimal if one did not look too much at her sleeves.

The guards opened the doors for her and she counted numbers in her head when she saw the Firelords with his sons and Prince Lu Ten, all in royal robes and with their golden headpieces.

“And here’s the one I’ve spoken to you about. Come forward, girl.”

Ursa did so and hastened to bow. 

“I am humbled to meet your Royal Highness, great hero of our nation. It is an honour that is far too much for me to bear.”

She heard a scoff behind her but didn’t flinch. Her sweat slowly made its way down her back, a hyper awareness of her surroundings.

“Ah you flatter me… excuse me, I did not catch your name.”

“Ursa, your Royal Highness.”

“Yes, Ursa. Do stand up, I believe my father promised to feed us.” The Prince General’s tone took on something of an affectionate note and she dared not raise her eyes as she straightened her posture, even if she desperately wished she could see it for herself.

They filtered around the dining table, occupying their respective seats, the Crown Prince second, his son third, the second prince fourth and her fifth. The Firelord sat, and gestured for the servants to serve him Roasted Duck. Firelord Azulon took his first bite, that’s when they began to eat.

And when Prince General Iroh spoke.

“Father,” he said, and the Firelord quirked an eyebrow in question. “Your wisdom is unmatched, I admit even for me. I don’t understand what feat a seer can accomplish that our loyal soldiers cannot.”

The firelord was not offended by his son’s barely veiled criticism and he reclined in his seat, folding his hands beneath his chin. “Our soldiers are dying, and the Earth Kingdom’s strongholds remain untouched. The Northern Tribes are isolated and only The Southern Tribes have crumbled. It appears I need to obtain a leverage to accelerate our success. Now, we will finally fulfill our vision for a world united. The war will be over in ten years.”

Prince Ozai cleared his throat. “Father, the war would be ours if we simply-”

“I did not give you permission to speak,” Firelord Azulon barely raised his voice and yet Ursa could hear the chastisement loud and clear. “And your opinion is flawed; technology is meaningless if it keeps getting destroyed. Supporting the new weapons is a boost to our prowess but it cannot be the advantage we rely on.”

And he wanted to rely on _her_? Ursa wished it wasn't against prosperity to try and drown the thought with the bowl of Hulatang.

The Second Prince must have been thinking the same thing for she felt his eyes on her and spotted the all too brief curl of his lips. 

“Relying is not the way of our people, Father. But we cannot deny the… edge our innovation gives us over the other nations. They’re primitive people, simple to defeat and with giving access to our soldiers to the latest machines everywhere, we will secure our victory in no time.”

“This discussion is over.”

Suffocating silence settled over the room and Ursa wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She spared the Crown Prince’s son a look and found him eagerly trying to accomplish a similar goal through stuffing in his meal. Their eyes met and they grimaced.

"Are you writing to your family, Ursa?" The Firelord asked. Ursa didn’t have the foresight to hide the stillness of her fingers on her chopsticks.

"Yes, my lord." 

"Hmm." Instinctively, she curled her toes, the motion obscured by the lavish robes of her station. "And what have you written home?"

"News of my life here, my training, things to bring my parents comfort and to reassure them of my good fortune in the Capitol."

"Spilling secrets, already?"

"No, sire," her voice raised an octave. She coughed and lowered it again, aware of the eyes of the princes at her back. "Only information that concerns me."

Firelord Azulon made a whipping sound with his tongue. "You're a sage now, a paramount stable of our great society. There's no information that pertains only to you."

Ursa knew what the Firelord wanted. She'd seen it, seen the outcome after all. She wanted to hold her letters close to her chest where no could take them, snarl at him and dare him to get closer. How dare he? How dare he? They were  _ hers _ .

She swallowed and plastered on her compliance. "If it pleases my lord, someone could read the letters before they're sent, to make sure there's nothing to endanger our Nation in them for our treacherous enemies to use."

He gestured with his hands. "Have that done."

The next bite of the meat was stale on her tongue.

* * *

Ursa was terrified.

It was the muted, subtle type, the kind that froze your fingertips and gorged on your heart, the kind that made you hyper aware of perspiration sliding down your spine. The throne room stretched before her, black shadows cast on brown mood and marble pillars. And she looked and saw  _ nothing _

Absolutely nothing. 

She tried to force herself to breathe, to stop the tremble in her hands and concentrate and mumbled words under her breath, pictured shoveling away layers that veiled her abilities so she could see. She shoveled and shoveled and saw nothing. The spirits and her powers have forsaken her, she was alone.

Why, she didn’t understand. She’d prayed and did her rites this morning, meditated like she’d been taught, everything to the letter, yet the nothingness continued. Was this the work of her grandfather, the traitor, haunting her from beyond death, punishing her for sitting in the palace of his once-friend-turned-enemy? 

She wanted to cry, she thought in that split second where her panic rescinded into something manageable. She truly did.

The generals and war minister sat not a meter away, unaware of her turmoil, lucky them. Their words were muddled and seemingly far away and she grinded her teeth, forcing herself to grasp onto the hazy conversation. She had to.

“This is our chance. The western resistance of the Earth Kingdom has let down their guards and with them preoccupied with the possibility of reclaiming Asakami and taking it back, we can finally attack the army in Hayanobe and conquer the southern regions.”

The high general at the very beginning of the council table stood up, bowing towards the Firelord as he began to speak. “If we attack Hayanobe now, sire, we risk alerting the Earth Kingdom forces to our presence. We have been trying to conquer the surrounding areas for the last five years with minimal success and it's only now that we're making a dent in their resistance."

"We could send out feelers to gauge the possibility of our success," spoke one of the admirals. He was tall and lithe, with a head full of brown hair. A standout amongst the others who had grey or white in their topknots.

“Something we’d already tried, and failed. Their security defences are almost impossible to preach. We’d have easier luck firing at them than attempting to infiltrate their ranks.”

“Hmm,” Firelord Azulon traced the lines of the map with his eyes. “Ursa, if we attack Haynobe, do you foresee the Earth Kingdom forces' successful resistance?"

The generals snapped to their heads to stare at her, in curiosity, in disregard, daring her to shrink under the burden of their disdain, wondering who was she to be worthy of it in the first place. Had she had the courage, she would have told them not to bother; she was too frightened to care.

Through the silence, she turned her sight towards the map, pretending to gauge futures that she couldn’t see as the blood rushed to her eardrum and her heart rattled between her lungs. 

Ursa made her decision. She lied.

And when she was finally free, hidden behind the doors of her chambers, she dug out history and strategy books and bent over them until she memorised every word, finding patterns and collected information like her life depended on it.

It did.

* * *

A messenger hawk landed on the Palace’s towers bearing news. The Fire Nation won Hayanobe, quelled the resistance in all the surrounding areas and were marching on to Hei Bai’s forest.

Newfound respect shone in the generals' eyes when she stepped into her next meeting and sat behind the wall of flame, writing down notes, taking clues from their words and plans and tried to breathe discreetly through her mouth. Time murmured of futures to come in sluggish tones but not why it left her and why it returned, only of paths not yet taken and roads to broach.

In the back of her mind, she understood that a shift in her position has occurred. The pai sho tiles had moved and her piece now weighed heavier.

She got out new parchment, painted it with letters and taught herself to learn some more.

* * *

The end of the year brought about a much awaited event. Prince Ozai’s wedding was to a lady of noble birth, the daughter of a distinguished former minister and the citizens of the Capitol traded words of congratulations in the street and fantasised about the festivities of the occasion, wondering how bountiful the gifts would be.

Ursa listened to the excited tittering and smiled underneath the hood of her clock. She envied the simplicity of the proclamations. She wished she was among her people, looking forward to an event in a place miles and miles away from her life. Reality was disappointing.

She gave a nod to the merchant and exchanged her coin for a lovely leather journal, a gift for her father to accompany the seeds of Chrysanthemums she’d procured for her mother. Practical gifts. She’d no delusions that the inspectors would prod and prod at everything she sends, better to keep it impersonal.

At least, she thinks sitting in a remote corner of the Palace grounds after the main ceremony was over, watching nobles trade chatter and lovely words, the party lived up to the expectations.

She ran a hand over her formal white robes, and played with her cup of sake.

* * *

When the spirits left her unanswered again, she knew better than to panic and methodically spun words in cryptics and puzzles and wove pieces to be mistaken for explanation.

She was a good learner like that.

* * *

The trick for minimal stress was managing her duties and scrolls before they accumulated to a horrifying pile of work that swarmed her. Unfortunately for her, self-imposed deadlines were not her forte. 

Ursa bound and unbound scrolls as she worked; divinations and messages and battle strategy and stretched her finger to get some semblance of feeling in her tendons. Her hair slid across her face and in a fit of pettiness, she punched it with her breath. It fell back against her cheek, mocking her with its persistence.

She snatched it back behind her ear, frustrated and tired and angry all at once. The blend of emotions was making her jumpy, it was good foresight that she’d had the inkstone away lest she spill it in a fit and end up ruining her work.

A faint screech rang through the halls.

Ursa straightened, the hair on her arms standing on end. She wondered if she should reach for the knife she kept in the drawer. 

The screech was heard another time and then a loud giggle followed, echoing in the empty corridors.

Curious, she stood up and slowly moved toward the door, pressing her ear to the wood. The noise faded into silence and she almost went back to her studies were it not for the faint scratching right outside.

She opened the door and swallowed a scream when she came face to face to two childish faces who looked up at her when they spotted her, clad in royal robes. The offspring of Prince Ozai, Zuko and Azula.

Ursa stared at the children.

The children stared back.

Well, it was the children before Princess Azula got bored and tried to walk closer. Prince Zuko snatched her back, a feat for the four year old if she did say so herself, and then it was just him staring at her and her staring back in trepidation as Azula pulled and pulled at him to let her go.

She finally freed herself from her brother's grasp and rushed inside before her foot twisted and she fell on the floor, palms colliding with the ground. Ursa gasped.

The little princess scrunched her face, tears welling up in her eyes and bottom lips quivering.

"No, no, don't cry," Ursa begged and ran to kneel on the floor beside the child. Azula didn't seem particularly moved by her plea and she began to let out pitiful whimpers. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she wondered what to do.

The princess began sobbing in earnest, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Pat. "There, there." Pat, pat. "Don't cry now."

Gradually, the sniffles quieted down and Ursa nearly sighed in relief before she remembered that she still had another problem and it was currently engaged in grasping at her journals and tools and she threw a look to the ceiling, wondering why this was her lot in life.

“Don’t touch that.” A soft murmur, yet still it was sufficient for the little prince to scurry away from her things like they would suddenly bite any minute.

Ursa peeked at little Azula, who was now staring at her silently, and she kept up the movements of her hands, feeling ridiculously proud of herself. Really, this wasn’t so hard.

“Pretty!” the princess exclaimed and Ursa froze, a furious blush creeping up her cheeks. It was a simple compliment from a child, and she knew that the odds of the little princess being aware of her words was slim to none, yet her pleasure at hearing it was not.

She tried to cough, “t-thank you.”

Azula reached with her hand, climbing on her feet, trying to grasp at-

Oh. Ursa felt like a fool.

She touched her headdress, then lifted it from her head. “Do you want this?”

“Shiny,” she cooed.

“Yes, it is shiny,” she agreed, allowing her to inspect the crystal of the headdress. Zuko, intrigued as well, approached them and crouched to sit beside her as he explored the reflections in the jewel. 

Ursa had the strangest urge to laugh, she didn’t think any sage could ever say they babysat the royal children and yet here she was...

Here she was.

“Do you want to see something interesting?” she asked. Only Zuko deigned to answer, and he nodded vigorously. She gave a shy smile and carefully extracted herself from her position, going to her desk.

Tongue running over the seam of her lips, she pondered what she could show them. Not the sharp rocks obviously, or the inks, there had been an incident once back home when a young boy accidentally swallowed some and that was the talk of everyone for a week. A book? No, she didn't think children that age could read yet, or did they?

At the last minute, she pulled her crystal mirror and walked back to the children, giving it to the prince.

Azula tried to bite at the encrusted gem and Ursa eyed her warily, but left her be, as long as she accidentally didn't dig it out of its place and hurt herself, she guessed it was fine. Zuko took the mirror from her, eyes squinting. She wondered why he was so quiet.

"t's that?" He asked, voice so soft and faint that Ursa had to replay the words in her mind so she can understand them.

"It's a mirror."

"I have mirror."

And now she felt stupid.

"Yes, but this one is different."

He looked to the mirror and then back at her, doubtful.

"This one doesn't just show you your image."

"How?"

She pressed her palms to her left eye and tried to think of something to say. Ugh, she had been a stage actor and yet she couldn't spin a simple story, what a disgrace.

"It shows who people are on the inside," when he glanced at her again, she hurried to add. "So it helps realise what makes them, well uh, them."

Zuko’s mouth dropped open and she wondered if she wasn’t making any sense at all. Quite possible honestly.  _ This _ situation wasn't making any sense either.

"Like you?"

She met his eyes in surprise. "No, little prince. I only see the future, I don't know people."

He pouted. "Boring."

Ursa exhaled and leaned against the pole of her table, watching as Azula tried in vain to munch on the ruby and only succeeded in getting it covered in toddler spit, at least the princess had expensive tastes.

"It does sound boring, doesn't it?"

A minute later, Princess Xia burst into her chamber with a pair of her handmaidens following suit in a flurry of silk and distress, immediately clutching her children close to her chest in between reprimands and scolding for scaring the life out of her, somehow managing to sneak a profuse apology for Ursa's time in between before she escorted them back outside and to their villa, Azula screaming her head off for her 'shiny' and Zuko tearing up and through it all the realisation that this might be the most chaotic noise she's been exposed to that wasn't from total strangers sits tight in her chest.

* * *

A night, two and three pass and everyone forgets about the incident.

Everyone always forgets eventually.

* * *

Often were the days where Ursa became lost between day and night, present and future, visions and reality. The lines blurred until she was uncertain whether she was among the living or trapped inside her sighting, laying witness to the world changing seasons before it should. 

When that happened, she hid her shoes beneath her garments and walked barefoot on the grass and cobaled stones. The edges dug at her feet in painful bursts but Ursa couldn't find it in herself to give them back their protection.

Pain can be grounding.

She blinked as she saw mountain frost pile on the flower petals and reminded herself that ache under her toes was from heat and not ice.

* * *

Court gatherings were a  _ nightmare _ , that much she knew to be true.

Six years under her belt and the way everyone traded words, stealing secrets, the gossip that ran a mile, the sharp eyes of everyone prying for weaknesses, how the smiles were burning flames, were exhausting. 

The only benefit was the food and even that was running out.

Well, she could go and get more but that would mean she had to get out of her perfect cocoon hiding in one of the better hidden balconies and risk getting cornered by one sycophant or another, and Ursa  _ really  _ did not want a single more compliment about how her astutely talents served the throne. She might actually indulge in one of her darker fantasies and murder someone if she did.

She mournfully slurped her noodle soup.

A slight breeze rustled the trees and Ursa let her thought drift in rhythm to the branches as they floated in the wind.

It was so… serene.

Someone coughed and Ursa flinched, sharp and urgent, hastily turning around only to find Prince Lu Ten, still in full royal regalia.

“Your highness,” she exclaimed and hurried to stand and bow, tripping in the fabric of her robe as she twisted her ankle. The result was her bent on the chair in a position most discomforting, one hand holding on to the armrest and the other desperately keeping the bowl from slipping and crashing to the ground.

“At ease, diviner. There’s no need to bow. We’re both sneaking out of very important proceedings, I believe that is a release from protocols as any.”

She could never be released from protocols.

“I suppose,” she said, and then because it was the only polite thing to say. “Would you like to join me?”

“I’d be honoured.”

She wondered why he left the proceedings, when his father was still inside. Ursa was not ignorant to their closeness; they usually liked to spend their time around each other when father and son were both in the Capitol at the same time. Maybe court gatherings were a nightmare to the crown as well.

Prince Lu Ten walked to the railings, a plate piled with rolls, meat and a pair of chopsticks. He snorted when he saw her bowl.

“I thought myself the only one who learned to sneak food past the vulture hawks in the Court.”

She shrugged. “My apologies for disappointing.”

Lu Ten chuckled. “Nonsense, it gives me comfort to know I had a secret companion.”

In lieu of a response, she attempted for a smile. Judging by the stiffness in her lips though, she’d hardly call it a successful endeavor.

The prince didn’t seem bothered by the awkwardness and extended his plate towards her. She bit the inside of her cheek, certain that this wasn’t exactly of proper decorum. He shook it in her direction and she swallowed, then picked at an egg roll from the corner.

Ursa took a small bite, delighted to discover that the filling was her favourite, and proceeded to dip the whole thing into the soup. She moved it around with her chopsticks until she was satisfied it was properly soaked and then got it out to munch on it again, sucking out the liquid.

It was very generous of the prince to…

She froze.

And very slowly, allowed her eyes to peer at Prince Lu Ten, nearly shuddering in relief when she found facing the view instead of well… what she was doing. In the mainland, rolls were eaten as appetizers and the soup was finished after a good meal. Eating rolls dunked in soup was something nobles sniffed at in derision, something for the colonial raised and peasants to do.

The prince must have felt her eyes on her for he turned.

“Is something the matter?”

"No, nothing. Thank you for the food, your highness" she said, and bowed with her head. The Crown Prince's son gave a subtle twitch of his eyebrows before he nodded and leaned against the railings, the only sound between them was the occasional scrap of their utensils against their plates.

Later, sitting on the chair of her vanity, she'd realise with surprising clarity as she massaged her scalp as she unpinned her hair, that she’d  _ meant _ it.

What a thought.

* * *

Ursa, 

I am not sure how likely you are to receive this and I wish you could have found out another way but your parents are dead. It was illness. 

You need not worry about their funerals, it was no trouble to give this last favour to old friends.

* * *

“Diviner,” the silken voice of Prince Ozai was a surprise as she headed outside of the Throne Room, her scrolls and notes beneath her arms. Ursa spun on her heels to face him, and found the other surprise; Princess Azula by his side. 

Was she not too young to walk in these parts of the Palace?

She bowed. “Your highness.” 

Three seconds and she stood tall again. “To what pleasure do I owe your call on me?”

“My daughter,” he gestured towards said daughter. The five year old preened. “She asked to see you.”

“Oh.” Ursa could scarcely know what to say to that, but even if she saw them rarely, she did remember the princess fondly as she did her brother, the children with the friendly noise. “I am pleased to hear so, princess.”

“Tomorrow, I wish to speak to you, diviner,” Prince Ozai said. Then, as if remembering. “Should you have the time?”

Ursa was confused but didn’t show it. The second prince hardly approved of her role as an advisor, tolerated her at best, he preferred the strength of his technology over what he has said to be the fickleness of her abilities. This change was unexpected.

She gave an inclination of her head. “Of course.” 

He wanted something. Ursa would just have to figure out what.

* * *

Sometimes Ursa hoped she’d just go to sleep one day and not walk up. The barest of simplicities, done and over with. It would, she thinks, just end the melodramatic suspense of it all.

* * *

“Royal Sage Ursa, Royal Sage Ursa!” 

Ursa lowered her tea cup at the call and waited for him to come. There was only one royal in the entire Caldera who addressed her as Royal Sage Ursa and sure enough Prince Zuko sprinted toward her, almost bouncing on his toes.

She lifted the rim over her mouth to hide a spreading smile and took a sip. The prince took her silence as cue to sit on the stool next to her.

"Hello, my prince. I trust you're having a good day."

"I need to ask you something."

Of course. 

"I'll do my best to assist you."

Zuko opened his mouth to speak. He paused and tilted his head to look at her. "Why is there red in your eyes?" 

Ursa didn't expect the question and she had to blink a few times to get her bearings. "Red?"

"Yeah," Zuko nodded, his phoenix tail bobbing with the motion. He stood up so they could be at the same height and gazed deep at her sclera. "It's a very small line, right around your pupil."

"I must be tired." She was. Were it not for her precious coffee, imported from the Earth Kingdom, she doubted she would have been much inclined to get out of bed much less perform her duties. 

"You should be sleeping," he said, aghast. "I command you to sleep well."

"That's not very nice," she replied, amused and with the ugly curl in her stomach that came from being told what to do. She focused on the amusement. That was easier to deal with.

Zuko's shoulders dropped and his eyes fell to the ground. "Sorry." The words were whispered quietly as he assumed his earlier position.

Ursa took another sip and refrained from commenting on his abrupt change in attitude. It was not her place.

"You wanted to ask me something."

Some of the earlier vibrancy returned to his eyes. “Well-”

“Diviner!”

Zuko’s shoulders immediately slumped. Prince Ozai’s younger child headed towards them, her pair of friends following suit. Ursa swallowed another mouthful of her Bilochun. It seemed she was famous among the children today.

“Princess Azula,” she greeted, setting her cup on the tray. She wasn’t getting any more relaxation done. A shame, she’d wanted to savour this batch. “And friends.”

“I am Ty Lee!” the one with the braid said, a happy blissed smile on her face. Ursa was suddenly deadly certain that her fatigue would spring to a raging headache if she was left alone with her for more than ten minutes.

“Now is not the time, Ty Lee” the princess waved her friend away. “I want you to do a reading for us.”

“A reading?” 

“Yeah, tell us something about our futures.”

Oh, if Ursa had a silver piece every time she heard that request, from eager nobles to barely sober guards who had the foresight to whisper so they didn’t insult their esteemed sovereign by trivializing the skill of his advisor, she’d have enough money to fill the Nation’s coffers and fund the war. 

The luxury of refusing didn’t extend to the royal family. With the others it’d be an insult to accept, with the prince and princess it’d be treason to decline.

“As you wish, princess. Which one of you would like to go first?”

“Me!”

“I need to see your hand, your highness.” She didn’t, not really, but it helped to lend some mystery to her craft and it left Ursa biting her lips to keep from smiling as she pretended to be a wizened old woman telling fortune from her scroll instead of a diviner who delved in time and brought armies to their knees.

Azula let her open her palm and Ursa whispered prayers under her breath. She wondered if the spirits would answer her today.

They did.

“I see a high wall of blue flame in your future and lightning at your fingertips.” The princess made a low noise, a gasp before a happy grin broke over her face. It softened the hard edges in her eyes, and highlighted the curve of her cheeks. “You will walk among many enemies and make them allies, made to serve our Nation and bring honour to the crown.”

“Is there more?” she asked, eager.

“No. This is all that’s been revealed to me.”

Azula cradled her hand with a prideful set of her shoulder. She turned to the two girls and gestured for them to take their turn.

Ty Lee, enthusiastic to try out, happily came forward. The other one, silent and demure with a pair of buns on her head stared at Ursa with something that was distrustful. 

“This is so exciting. I can’t believe you’re going to tell me my future.”

She gave a half-hearted quirk of her lips. “And what an exciting future to tell. I can see you’ll travel to many places and find camaraderie in the most unlikely one of all.”

“Wow,” Ty Lee breathed, unbothered by the shortness of her prediction. She seemed taken with the possibilities of her words.

Azula snapped her fingers. “Mai, it’s your turn.”

“Do I have to?” Mai asked, clutching her hands to her as if she feared Ursa would snatch them away and open her up, spilling her secrets for all to see and pick at, like she was a target for one of her shuriken to sink into or cuffs of clothes to pin, trapping the people who wore them so that  _ he _ could escape before it was too late and they stopped him and-

Ursa took a subtle breath and willed her heart to stop beating so fast.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head to clear the muddled visions away. Her next smile was comforting, or she hoped it was at the very least. “You’re going to make some very brave decisions.”

“That’s it?” Azula asked. Ursa wasn’t sure if she sounded disappointed or just eager to finish the conversation but she nodded all the same. “That’s so boring.”

Mai shrugged. “I like it.”   
  
“Of course, you would,” Ty Lee laughed. "You're no fun."

The girl didn’t bow her head in defeat but Ursa could see the loosening in her shoulders, and felt like her ribs were pressing against her lungs. She resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. Her headache was getting worse.

Princess Azula shot a look towards the Palace and beckoned her friends to follow after her. Ty Lee did so without hesitation while Mai, quiet brave Mai, took careful steps, glancing backwards at Ursa and then straightened her posture.

No, she was looking at Zuko.

“You never asked me your question,” she turned to the prince who’d sat without making a single noise. 

"Oh right," he fidgeted with his hands, a nervous habit. “I am not so sure now, it is silly.”

“No question of yours is silly, my prince, I assure you. Your wish is my command.”

“Oh,” he paused, before seemingly gathering courage. “Well, can you tell me what will happen in the next act of A Walk of a Thousand Suns? I have been waiting for ages but the writer still hasn't finished that part and who knows when I will see it.”

Ursa was rendered speechless, the question completely unforeseen. She opened her mouth to speak, but no noise would come out. A struggle that encompassed her for several moments.

“Zuko!” Princess Xia's voice rang across the garden with clarity, calling for her son. A few seconds later, she called for her daughter as well. “Azula. Where are you both?”

Zuko seated beside her, was now carefully still, as if he believed that remaining especially quiet would render him undetectable to his mother and let him remain here to pursue his questions. The image made unexpected nostalgia swell inside her. She’s been him once, long ago.

“You should go to your mother, Prince Zuko.” she advised. Zuko turned to her, the set of his mouth a loud proclamation of her betrayal. It made her rasp out a sudden laugh and she reached out to give him an affectionate pat to the head. 

“If I tell you how the play ends now, that would just spoil the fun, wouldn’t it?”

* * *

"Your highness," Ursa gave a formal bow, her hair flowing in the wind. 

"Diviner," Princess Xia spoke. "How do you fare?"

"Serving Agni's chosen as one should."

The princess’s mouth quirked upwards. "Walk with me."

Walk she did, and red threads got tangled around her fingers, digging in her joints, she saw and saw and saw and the threads didn’t stop spinning. She was sitting on the wheel, doomed to watch it go on forever, trace the threads to where they continued and wrapped around their bearers, choking, a sacrifice too great for an offence committed. Blood spilled, and the world rang with desperate cries and the fire continued burning for it was relentless and was never sated.

She dug sharp fingers in the flesh of her palms and wished she could retch in disgust. As it was she could only fold her sleeves atop each other.

“I hope the children weren’t an inconvenience.”

Ursa willed her voice into existence and prayed for the world around her to stop swaying.

“The little prince and princess are well-mannered, your highness. A credit to their mother.”

“Ah, diviner. You flatter me.”

“To hear my words please you is an honour, though I only speak the truth.”

Princess Xia threw her head back and chuckled, a low throaty sound, the curve of her lips echoing her son’s. Or he, his mother’s. Sometimes, she got lost in the logic of it all.

“So formal,” the princess said and Ursa couldn’t tell if she was mocking or teasing. Spirits of the sun and mountains both, her headache was killing her.

“My apologies, your highness.” What was she apologising for?

Her head gave a pang. She needed her coffee, another cup of tea, or something to stab.

“There's no need for apologies, I simply wish you’d feel more comfortable, you’re no longer a stranger to my family after all.” It was true. Prince Ozai had been… generous to her, far more than she knew him to be. He invited over dinners with his family at least once a month, and would approach her for news and counsel sometimes, seeking information. It was a change of scenery if nothing else. “We certainly hope you’ll join us tomorrow.”

Ursa spared the prince’s wife a look and thought of the strings that will soon tie around her hands.

“If the prince wishes for my presence then he will find it.” Tell her. Tell her not.

“Your loyalty is commendable, diviner. You serve the Firlord and his progeny well. Do you see any interesting tales for us in the future?” Tell her.

“The future is always in motion, your highness. I see glory and prosperity for the Firelord and his family.” Tell her not.

The princess’s smile turned, shrevling and bitter. “Sometimes I envy you for your abilities. What mystical happenings you must be privy to.” 

Ursa wanted to laugh. She savoured the next bite of her fingers. Tell her. “I’m afraid it would fail to live to your expectations, your highness. It is often… dull. I’d much rather practise my concoctions.” 

Or go to the theatre. Ursa  _ missed _ the theatre.

“Concoctions.” Princess Xia arched a pointed eyebrow. "You're skilled with herbs?"

"I was taught by my mother," Ursa told her, and cringed. She didn't want to speak about her mother or her family or her past life. "I find it's a most useful skill. You never know when you might need to wipe out something in a pinch."

"Oh?"

"The world is full of many dangers, my lady."

Princess Xia's mouth tightened at her words. Ursa briefly wondered if she overstepped and said too much. She didn't savour getting her head cut off because of a miscalculation. 

Xia gave her a curt nod. "Perhaps I should learn."

* * *

The news spread around the Fire Nation faster than the wind could carry it.

General Iroh had marched to Ba Sing Se two years ago to crumble its walls, and his son was the one who fell.

* * *

Ursa knelt in front of the Dragon Throne, head pressed to the floor, her spine ramrod straight. The crackling of the flame wall echoed around the chamber. Her hair tickled the nape of her neck as it fell around her face.

“I am disappointed.” The Firelord’s tone was swift and cutting. “You have failed me greatly, Ursa.”

She tried to bow deeper, an impossible task. She made due. 

“The loss of the future crown prince is an unbearable tragedy.” Not a lie. Days later and she could hardly believe it herself. “I accept my lord’s punishment for this great failure of mine.”

“Iroh lost his firstborn and you, of all people, should have forewarned us, instead my son is without an heir and the nation is grieving. What do you have to say to yourself?”

She wished the Firelord would give her permission to rise, the muscles of her back ached. “My lord, I have been unable to foresee anything for the past months. The future has been hidden from me.”

“And why is that?” Firelord’s Azulon spoke, a whipping quality to his voice. It made her look up to his silhouette in the flames, the faintest hint of urgency drumming in her ears. The world fractured into half, the throne and its reflection, its  _ successor _ , in front of her eyes. She almost jumped back in fright, something, not a scream, but something, trapped in her throat. The fire roared to the ceiling, too fierce and consuming. The images faded before she could do a thing, leaving her boneless and lightheaded. 

The words slipped out of her throat without thought, her realisation brought to light. “The spirits are angry.”

The firelord’s lips curled, she couldn’t see it, the motion obscured behind the fire and yet Ursa knew it did like she knew the back of her hand.

“The spirits. Your negligence cost us a prince and you  _ dare  _ hide behind the spirits?”

She bowed again to hide the clench of her jaws. Negligent, she bled herself dry for her nation, cut and cut from herself and she was negligent. She dug out futures and saw horrors, and she was negligent. But what did it matter to the Firelord, he couldn’t know, of course.

"Your majesty," she spoke, hoping for forgiveness. "I-"

“Leave my sight at once, I have matters to attend to. I will deal with you tomorrow.”

“Of course, my lord.”

She saw Prince Ozai and his family walking inside on her way out. Princess Azula glanced at her and Prince Zuko gave her a tiny wave but she didn’t have the heart to wave back.

* * *

"You dare suggest I betray Iroh? My first born? Directly after the demise of his only beloved son? I think Iroh has suffered enough. But you, your punishment has scarcely  _ begun _ !"

* * *

Ursa whipped the hood of her cloak of her face, folding herself neatly in the faithful shadows of the palace, and kept her footsteps faint. She slipped past the guards stationed in the yard and walls as she made her final trek outside of the palace. 

Her work here was done.

Above her, a Firelord drew his last breath. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was definitely one of my weirder AUs. Hopefully, this was enjoyable. Please tell me what you thought.


End file.
